


No Thanks to Fate

by WarriorBeeoftheSea



Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [17]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), DEC 11 - Witch/Psychic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21740731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarriorBeeoftheSea/pseuds/WarriorBeeoftheSea
Summary: Fiona and Simon have a chat.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557757
Comments: 7
Kudos: 123
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2019





	No Thanks to Fate

Fiona is standing in the open door of Baz's flat--er, _her_ flat--when I walk up.

" _Snow,_ " she sneers at me. (Did she watch me walk up the sidewalk? Does she have a _Simon Snow is approaching_ ward activated? Or does she just stand in her open door on the off chance I might pop by for an intimidation?)

"Fiona," I say cautiously. "I'm here to see Baz."

She scoffs. "Well obviously. I didn't think you were here for _me_ , darling." She steps out of the way, and gestures me inside.

I hesitate.

She sighs. "Come on. Baz is running late from class, but he asked me to let you in. So come on, _let me_ let you in." (Ah, so that's how she knew I was coming.)

I follow her cautiously into the flat. She gestures towards the kitchen table and waves me over. "I'm meant to offer you tea. So," she grins at me, "tea?"

I sit at the table, still feeling very much caught off guard. "Uh, yes. Yes, please." (There was a time I wouldn't have accepted food or drink from a Pitch, but those days are over. And besides, I could use a cuppa.)

Which is how I find myself having tea with Fiona Pitch.

She peers at me over her cup. "So how's life, Chosen One? Out there living your grand destiny?"

I feel my face flush, and try to cover by sipping my tea. "I don't have a destiny. Grand or otherwise."

She scoffs. "Well, then. Living your best life now you're freed from the bollocks of having a _destiny_?"

I'm not really sure how to answer. "I... wouldn't say so, no. Not living my best life, I mean."

She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. "Why's that?"

"I..." I falter. I'm not sure how much to tell Fiona. "I just... don't know what to do with myself. So I just fuck it all up instead."

A grin spreads across her face. "Ah, so you're like the rest of us now."

I shake my head. "I'm not like the rest of you. I'm useless. I have no magic."

"I didn't mean like _that_. Yeah, you're well useless as a mage." I cringe, but she continues. "I mean you're just like the seven billion some _other_ people who weren't handed an instruction booklet for how their life is meant to go."

I shrug. "I was handed one, but it was wrong. And maybe written in another language." I crack a smile, and Fiona laughs.

"Piss poor instruction booklet, I'd say. Did you wind up assembling any flat pack furniture with it?"

"Sadly, no."

She reaches for her tea again. Takes a sip. "It's not so bad, you know."

"What?"

"Not having a direction. A destiny." She shrugs. "Everyone always knew my sister was destined for greatness. But I certainly wasn't."

I feel like I should object, but I don't know what to say. _You're certainly destined for greatness, Fiona. Don't talk down on yourself._ Bollocks. 

She waves me away and continues. "Do you know our parents _actually_ had our fortunes divined? Took us to a seer and everything."

I shake my head. _Of course I didn't know that._

"Mum took Natasha when she was fifteen, already an over achiever. And the seer said that she was going to do all this great stuff. You know, change the world of mages, and all that."

I nod.

"So, mum took me to the same seer, when I was twelve, because I was already _worrying_ my parents with my lack of direction. And you know what the seer told me?"

"What?"

Fiona laughs wryly. "She didn't see _anything_. No destiny. No winning lotto numbers. _Nothing._ "

I frown. "What does that mean, though?"

"See," she points her cup at me, "this is where I start thinking. Alright, so maybe I won't do anything great. But, if I do, I can be sure as fuck that I did it myself, yeah? No winds of fate at my back, pushing me along."

"But without a destiny I'm still likely to do nothing good with my life, right? That whole _doing it myself_ idea isn't a certain thing."

She narrows her eyes at me. "Listen, Snow. I've only got so much capacity for reassurance in me. Don't push it. Maybe you'll keep being a fuck up. Maybe you won't. Nothing's decided for you yet."

I hear a key start to turn in the lock, and Fiona gets up to leave the table. "Anyway, Snow. Being a fuck up's not the worst thing."

I nod to her just as Baz strides into the kitchen. "Thank you."

She shakes her head and walks away. "I don't want to hear about you lot shagging on my sofa while I'm out."

Baz gapes at her. "Fiona, what the actual fuck."


End file.
